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- Chapman University Digital Commons
Chapman University
Chapman University Digital Commons
Printed Performance Programs (PDF Format)
Music Performances
4-23-1995
Senior Recital
Stacey Tappan
Chapman University
Tania Fleischer
Chapman University
Christy Steimer
Chapman University
Judith Johnson
Chapman University
Gina Vanides
Chapman University
Follow this and additional works at: http://digitalcommons.chapman.edu/music_programs
Recommended Citation
Tappan, Stacey; Fleischer, Tania; Steimer, Christy; Johnson, Judith; and Vanides, Gina, "Senior Recital" (1995). Printed Performance
Programs (PDF Format). Paper 60.
http://digitalcommons.chapman.edu/music_programs/60
This Senior Recital is brought to you for free and open access by the Music Performances at Chapman University Digital Commons. It has been
accepted for inclusion in Printed Performance Programs (PDF Format) by an authorized administrator of Chapman University Digital Commons. For
more information, please contact [email protected]
CHAPMAN UNIVERSITY
School of Music
presents a
Senior Recital
Stacey Tappan, Soprano
Tania Fleischer, Accompanist
assisted by
Christy Steimer, Violin .
Judith Johnson, Cello
Gina Vanides, Clarinet
Sunday,April23, 1995
8:00 P.M. • Salmon Recital Hall
Program
I
George Friedrich Handel
SuBer Blumen Ambraflokken
(1685-1759)
Meine Seele hort im Sehen
from Neun Deutsche Arien
Tania Fleischer, harpsichord
Christy Steimer, violin
Judith Johnson, cello
II
Erist's (Eduard Morike)
Die ihr schwebet (Lope de Vega)
Mein Liebster ist so klein (Anon.)
Das verlassene Magdelein (Morike)
Erstes Liebeslied eines Madchens (Morike)
III
"Una voce poco fa"
from JI Barbiere di Siviglia
Hugo Wolf
(1860-1903)
Gioacchino Rossini
(1792-1868)
Intermission
Exsultate, Jubilate, K. 165
Ludions
Air du Rat
Spleen
La Grenouille amercaine
Air du Poete
Chanson du Chat
IV
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
(1756-1791)
v
VI
Three Songs for Soprano and Clarinet
Of all the birds that I do know
Flow, my tears
Ho, who comes here?
Gina Vanides, clarinet
Erik Satie
(1866-1925)
Gordon Jacobs
(1895-1984)
Stacey 'Tappan
Songs of Love ancf ::A[ature
'U!ftfi
'Tania JTeiscfier, piano and fiarpsicfiord
Cfiristy Steimer, viofin
Judy Johnson1 ceffo
yina o/anides_, darinet
Senior '.J\!,cita[
Ylpri[ 23, 1995
arias . by George
coll ect10n of nine
1
and 1727 for
Basso continua in this
instrument, a
Since the
harpsichord cannot sustain pitches,
cello does. Above
foundation, the soprano and violin have two contrasting
lines, each complementing the
The poems in
two songs share a common theme: appreciation for
through
Gioacchino Rossini (
1868) composed one of the
operas ever: Il Barbiere di Siviglia, or ~:..;:;;;....::=-=:..=;.,;;;_
..:.:..::;_~~:...::.:.. This delightful comic opera, first performed
the love between Rosina and C
attempts to overcome the
kept under close
no fool. This
the opera, introduces her to the audience as a sweet, loving,
obedient girl on the surface, who underneath is strongwilled, clever, and determined not to give up until she
achieves her heart's desire. The music, too, is at times sweet
and flirtatious, bold and confident, or sly and clever. Usually
an aria for mezzo-soprano, it is transposed up a half-step
from its original key when done by sopranos, to better fit in
the soprano voice. The frequent coloratura runs with which
Rosina expresses her determination, however, are equally
challenging for soprano and mezzo alike.
The motet Exsultate, Jubilate was written in 1773 by
that greatest of child (and adult) prodigies, Wolfgang
Amadeus Mozart ( 17 56-1 791) when he was seventeen years
old. He wrote it in Milan for a Roman male soprano (the
castrato Venanzio Rauzzini) but it remains popular with
female sopranos today, and with good reason. The music,
and especially the vocal line, contain Mozart's characteristic
simplicity and beauty, while at the same time overflowing
with joy and praise.
Now we progress from the sublime to the ridiculous;
Ludions by Erik Satie (1866-1925). This song cycle was
written in 1923 and was the last set of songs Satie ever wrote.
The songs are characteristic of Satie's style in several ways:
they are very short, they have odd harmonic colorings, and
the text setting points out Satie's sense of humor as well as
his sensitivity to the poet's intentions.
Air du Rat is a nonsense poem, which makes
translation difficult. Satie's odd chords and intervals and
bizarre accents complement the weird nature of the words in
this poem. The next song, Spleen, is more serious in its
despair and questioning of life. La Grenouille americaine
talks, in an American accent, about a frog with yellow eyes.
This frog is represented by a little "hopping" idea in the
piano that also sounds like an American march. The entire
purpose of the next song, Air du Poete, is a play on words:
Papuan~
"Papouete".
(peanut). Tc
makes a monotonous
point out the
pun, as
as playfully stressing the
line, which is usually very subtle in
French. The
song, Chanson du Chat, is a vigorous folk
song. Many of the words are in baby talk, as if one were
talking to a spoiled cat.
The
piece on
a set
songs by
Gordon Jacobs (1895-1984),
for clarinet and soprano.
The texts are taken from "English Madrigal Verse". The
first is an anonymous
the second is by John
the third is by Thomas Morely. Of all the
birds that I do know is a good example
Elizabethan
metaphor: comparing a woman to a sparrow,
a slightly
bawdy manner. The clarinet plays
part of
bird with
light
runs. In the second song, Flow, my
tears, voice and clarinet interchange parts and build off of
a beautifully expressive line. Finally, Ho, who
one another
~==--:;==--;....;;;....;.. refers to the ancient English tradition of the
Morris. This ritual is usually held on May Day and
celebrates rebirth and springtime. These traditions involve
Morris dancing, which is performed exclusively by men.
They often wear white clothes or have white kerchiefs in
each hand, and they wear bells on their legs that jingle in
time with their steps. Bagpipes and drums provide the
accompaniment, and the piping can be heard in the clarinet
part. The hobby horse is another common figure of this
ritual, and is also associated with the celebration of the
fertility of spring.
I would like to thank my fellow classmates for their
encouragement, as well as
of my
teachers, who have not only helped me bring
recital
together, but have given me over my four years here a solid
foundation as a musician and artist. Thanks especially to
.... M,,.A~"""k me
my
Palanca-
Hansen who has made me see art song in a new light;
the
divine Tania Fleischer, whose coaching, counsel, and
musicianship have inspired me, and especially to my
teacher and friend, Lynn "Best Teacher In the World" ColeAdcock, who has increased my confidence in myself and my
abilities, and who has made my love and enthusiasm for
music grow. "Learning music by reading about it is like
making love through the mail." - Pavarotti.
Special thanks to the best family a girl could ever
have: my loving grandparents, Dave and Jeanne Tappan
and Bob Vogel; my sister Christina and brother Dan, who
make life infinitely richer; and to my wonderful parents,
whose unquestioning emotional support and faith in me
have kept me going when I needed it most.
Thanks also to Kathy Wagner for the creation of a
spectacular dress, to Gina Vanides, Judy Johnson, and
Christy Steimer for their help and talent, and especially, to
those of you who came tonight.
Thank you all for being a part of my recital!
Neun Deutsche Arien. 3
Su.Ber Blumen Ambraflokken,
Euer Silber soll mich lokken Dem
zum Ruhm, der euch gemacht.
Pa ihr fallt, will ich mich
schwingen
Himmelwarts, und den besingen
Der die Welt hervorgebracht.
Sweet blossoms of the gum tree,
Your silver entices me
To the glory which created you.
There you fall, I want to
swing
Heavenwards, and celebrate in song
What the world has brought forth.
Neun Deutsche Arjen. 6
Meine Seele bort im Sehen,
Wie, den Schopfer zu erhohen
Alles jauchzet, alles
lacht.
Horet nur,
Des erbluhnden Fri.ilings Pracht
Ist die Sprache der Natur
Die sie deutlich durchs Gesicht
Allent halben mit uns spricht.
My soul hears in realization,
How, in order to extol,
Everything rejoices, everything
laughs.
Just listen,
The blooming splendor of spring
Is the voice of nature
Which, clearly through this guise,
Everywhere, speaks to us.
Er Ist's
Fruhling }asst sein blaues Band
Wieder flattern durch die Li.ifte,
Su.Be, wohlbekannte Dtifte
Streifen ahnungsvoll das Land.
Veilcben traumen schon,
Wollen balde kommen.
Horeb, von fern ein leiser
Harfenton!
Fruhling, ja du bist's!
Pich hab ich vernommen, ja du
bist's!
It is Spring
Spring lets her blue ribbon
Again flutter through the breeze,
Sweet, well-remembered scents
Pervade, full of promise, the land.
Violets are dreaming already,
They will soon appear
Hear, from far off, the soft note of a
harp!
Spring, yes it is you!
I have sensed you; yes it is you!
Die Ihr Scbwebet
Die ihr schwebet um diese Palmen
Im Nacht und Wind,
Ihr heil'gen Engel, stillet die
Wipfel!
Es schlummert mein Kind.
Ihr Palmen von Bethlehem in
Windesbrausen,
Wie mogt ihr heute so zornig sausen!
0 rauscht nicht also!
Schweiget, neiget euch leis und
lind,
You Who Hover
You who hover over these palms
In night and the wind,
You holy angels, calm the
treetops!
My child is sleeping.
You Bethlehem Palms in the roaring
of the wind,
How can you rage so angrily today?
0 do not bluster so!
Hush, bend yourselves lightly and
gently,
Stillet ihr Wipfel!
Es schlummert mein Kind.
Der Himmelsknabe duldet
Beschwerde,
Ach, wie so mud er ward vom Leid
der Erde.
Ach nun im schlaf ihm leise
gesanftigtdie Qual zerrint.
Stillet ihr Wipfel!
Es schlummert mein Kind.
Grimmige Kalte sauset hernieder,
W omit nur deck ich des Kindleins
Glieder?
0 a11 ihr Engel,
Die ihr geflugelt wandelt im Wind,
Stillet die Wipfel!
Es schlummert mein Kind.
Calm your branches!
My child is sleeping.
The heavenly child bears a
burden,
Ah, how weary he was from the
sorrow of the world.
Ah, now in sleep, his pain is gently
smoothed away.
Calm your branches!
My child is sleeping.
Bitter cold blows here on him,
With what will I cover the child's
limbs?
Oh, all you angels,
You who fly wandering in the wind,
Calm the treetops!
My child is sleeping.
Mein Liebster Ist So Klein
Mein Leibster ist so klein,
Dass ohne Bucken
Er mir das Zimmer fegt
Mit seinen Locken.
Als er ins Gartlein ging,
Jasmin zu pfocken,
Ist er vor einer Schnecke sehr
erschrocken.
Dann setzt er sich ins Haus
Um zu verschnaufen
Da warf ihn eine Fliege ubern
Haufen
Und als er hintrat an mein
Fensterlein,
Stiess eine Bremse ihm den Schadel
ein.
Verwunscht sei'n alle Fliegen,
Schnacken, BremsenUnd wer ein Schatzchen hat aus dem
Maremmen!
Verwi.inscht sei'n alle Fliegen,
Schnacken, MuckenUnd wer sich, wenn er kusst
So tief muss bucken!
My Love is so Small
My love is so small,
That without bending,
He sweeps the floor for me
With his hair!
When he went into the little garden
To pluck jasmine,
He was badly frightened by a snail.
Then he sat down in the house
To catch his breath,
Where a fly knocked him head over
heels.
And as he came in through my little
window,
A bluebottle dented his head.
Cursed be all flies, snails,
bluebottlesAnd she who has a sweetheart from
Marremen!
Cursed be all flies, snails,
midgesAnd she who, when she kisses him,
Must bend so low!
look thus into it,
Sunk in sorrow.
it comes to me,
Faithless
That it was of you last
That dreamed.
Tear upon tear then
Streams onto my
Thus arrives the
that it were
Greif ich einen sussen Aal?
hin?
Schon schnellt mir's in Handen!
Ach J arnmer! 0 Lust!
Mit
und Wenden
Mir
an die Brust.
Es beisst
o Wunder!
Mir keck durch die
Schiesst's Herze hinunter!
0
'l'ut
Und
snake?
Love is a blind
She says to the
catch it?
and
It slides onto my breast.
It
oh
Me boldly
It shoots underneath to my heart!
Oh
I shudder!
What to do? What's
The horrible thing,
It snaps inside of me,
It lies coiled.
I must have
does its blissful
And will be the death of me!
'Vna voce poco fa"
Una voce poco fa
Qui nel cor mi risuono
II mio cor ferito e gia,
E Lindoro fu che il piego.
Si, Lindoro mio sara,
Lo giurai, la vincero.
Io sono docile, son rispettosa,
Sono obbediente, dolce, amorosa.
Mi lascio reggere, mi fO guidar.
Mase mi toccano dov'e il
mio debbole,
Saro una vipera, saro.
E cento trappole, prima di cedere
Faro giocar.
"A voice, a little while ago"
A voice, a little while ago,
Resounded here in my heart,
My heart is already wounded,
And Lindoro was the one who did it.
Yes, Lindoro will be mine,
I have sworn it, I will win.
I am docile, I am respectful,
I am obedient, sweet, loving,
I let myself be ruled, I can be led.
But if they touch me where my
weakness is,
I will be a viper, I will.
And 100 tricks before giving in,
I will play.
Exsultate. Jubilate
Exsultate, jubilate
0 vos animae beate.
Dulcia cantica canendo
Cantui vestro respondendo,
Psallant aethera cum me.
Exult. Reioice
Exult, rejoice,
0 you happy souls.
And with sweet music
Let the heavens resound,
With me, answering your song.
Fulget amica dies,
Jam fugere et nubila et procellae;
Exortus est justis in expectata
qui es.
Undique obscura
regnabat nox,
Surgite tandem laeti,
Qui timuistis adhuc,
Et jucundi aurore fortunatae
Frondes dextera plena et !ilia date.
The lovely day grows bright,
Now clouds and storms have fled,
A sudden calm has arisen for the
just.
Before, darkness reigned
everywhere.
Rise up and rejoice together,
You who are not feared,
And happy in the blessed dawn
Make offe1ing with hands full of
lilies and garlands.
Tu virginum corona,
Tu nobis pacem dona,
Tu consolare affectus,
Unde suspirat cor.
Alleluja.
Thou Crown of Virgins,
Grant us peace,
Assuage the passions
That touch our hearts.
Alleluia.
Abi Abi rounere
Whoever were
Dans un vieux square
Ou !'ocean du mauvais temps met
son seant
de
Sur un bane
aux
C'est d'une blonde
dessus
Ses besides de futaine
sont des grogs massus
de
taine~
onnr\11">''711<"
J e pense a Casadesus
n'a pas fait de
Sur cette scene d'amour
Dont le
nostalgique
Sort d\me boite d'Armour.
tu
du
0 bouillon
In an old square
Where the ocean of bad weather
sits
On a sad bench with
eyes
is for a blonde
Mean and
That you
this cabaret of
That is
with an
American accent)
Looks at me over
His fustian
( twilled cotton
fabric)
His eyes are massive
of grog
""~·~··,~~ of pretty silver (the silver
._, ...... '"'n'""' on a mirror)
I think of Casadesus (a violinist)
Who made no music
On this stage of love
Whose
perfume
Comes out of a box of armor/love.
( 100
monster) of the
you
The soul of the toad
or,
Oh bubble which looks at me
With your
,8.ir du Poet~
Au pays de Papouasie
J'ai caresse la Pouasie ...
La grace que je vous souhaite
C'est de n'etre pas Papouete.
Chanson du Chat
n est une bebete
Tili, petit n'enfant, Tirelan
C'est une byronette
La beste a sa moman, Tirelan
Le peu Ti nan faon
C'est un ti blan-blanc
Un petit Potasson
C'est mon goret, c'est mon por~on
Mon petit potasson.
II saut' sur la fenetre
Et groume du museau, Tirelo
Pasqu'il voit sur la crete
S'decouper les oiseaux, Tirelo
Le petit n'en faut
C'est un ti blo-blo
Un petit Pota~ao
C'est mon goret, c'est mon porceau
Mon petit potasseau.
S™ of the Poet
In the land of the Papous (Papua,
New Guinea)
I caressed pouetry...
The grace that I wish for you
It's not to be a Papoet.
Song of the Cat
He's a childish
Tili, little baby, Tirelan
He's a byronette,
The beast of his mama, Tirelan
The little faun/ little baby
He's a little white-white
A little Potasson.
He's my piglet, he's my little pig
My little Potasson.
He jumps onto the window,
And grooms his muzzle, Tirelo
'Cause he sees on the roof
The outlines of birds, Tirelo
The little one doesn't need/the little
baby
He is a ti blo-blo (like blan-blanc,
changed to rhyme)
A little Potasso.
He's my piglet, he's my little pig
My little potasso.
Three Songs for Soprano & Clarinet
1
Of all the birds that I do know,
Phillip my sparrow hath no peer.
For sit she high or sit she low,
Be she far off or be she near,
There is no bird so fair, so fine,
Nor yet so fresh as this of mine,
For when she once hath felt a fit,
Phillip will cry out yet, yet, yet.
She never wanders far abroad,
But is at home when I do ca11.
When I command she lays on load
With lips, with teeth, with
tongue and all
She chants, she chirps, she makes
such cheer
That I believe she hath no peer.
And to tell the truth he were to blame,
Having so fine a bird as she
To make him all this goodly game,
Without suspect or jealousy.
He were a churl (miser) and knew
no good
Would see her faint for lack of food
For when she once hath felt the fit,
Phillip will cry still yet, yet, yet.
and take it!
not away

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